


Fill This Night With Splendor

by coloquial



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy calling him James because that doesn't happen enough, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Slow Dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 09:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13338777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloquial/pseuds/coloquial
Summary: Bucky brags about his dancing skills and Darcy puts him to the test.





	Fill This Night With Splendor

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya, guys. Just a little somethin' somethin' for you guys. Enjoy!

If anyone had told Darcy six years ago that one night she’d be standing in the kitchen of an apartment paid by Tony fucking Stark—thanks to her BFF Thor,— accompanied by some former Hydra assassin who turned out to be her new bestie Captain America’s brainwashed childhood best pal, she’d probably ask what the hell they were on and where she could get some.

Yet that was exactly where she found herself right about now.

They’d just had dinner, and Darcy had started washing the day’s dirty dishes when Bucky snuck up on her, looking over her shoulder and standing too close for his own good. Every time he did, Darcy wanted to jump his bones, constantly having to remind herself that maybe that wasn't the wisest thing to do. Then again, Darcy wasn’t known for her wisdom. He slipped to her side, trying to take over. She waved him off with a sudsy hand.

“I got it, hot stuff. Don’t want that arm rusting.” She teased, her joke falling flat.

“Very funny,” He deadpanned, bumping her hip with his. “Move,”

She raised her hands in surrender and moved away from the sink, letting him take over. Normally, she would argue, but honestly, she hated doing the dishes, and he was a willing volunteer, so why not? That’s right, Darcy had the former fist of Hydra washing dirty plates. Her life did not make any fucking sense at all. Then again, if it meant she got to have a _very_ attractive super-soldier acting disgustingly domestic with her, she would gladly throw sense out the fucking window.

“You know,” She reached for the towel that hung from the fridge’s handle. “You have a funny way of being a gentleman, Barnes.” She said as she jumped onto the countertop next to him and dried her hands.

“Huh. Thought it was part of my charm?” He threw back, taking her by surprise.

She was still getting used to a Bucky who’d grown comfortable enough with her to let his old-self slip out from time to time. It was precious.

“Never said it wasn’t.” She stated. “Just an observation.”

“Mm-hmm,” He hummed curiously.

She stared at him for a moment. He was silent, clearly avoiding her eyes on him. He was so focused on the plate in his hands, she chuckled.

“I’m gonna be honest here for a second, don’t take it the wrong way, but,” She said. “I never thought 1940’s heartthrob James Barnes had such strong domestic skills.”

“He didn’t.” He stated.

“He didn’t?”

Bucky shook his head. “His skills were very different back then.”

“Really? What kind of skills? Getting down and dirty with dames?” She wiggled her eyebrows, and he smirked.

She wished he’d smile more. Her heart never failed to skip a beat whenever he did. He’d probably hate it if she said this out loud, but he just looked so beautiful whenever he did. He looked younger and full of life. He looked like the 20-something cute, flirty soldier he’d been once— and still was, in some ways. Her heart ached every time she was reminded how much time he’d lost and how they robbed him of his life and freedom. They’d meddled in his mind in a way that he lived convinced that he was unworthy of anything but death. It also angered her. He was oblivious as to how good of a man he really was. A deplorable human being wouldn’t spend the last three nights crashing on her couch because some sketchy men had been following her. That’s right, the deadly Bucky Barnes helped her make dinner, washed her dishes and sat through reruns of her favorite sitcoms until she fell asleep then carried her to her bed and tucked her in. Yeah, no, he was truly a menace to society. A melancholy feeling swept her. She wanted to give him everything and more. He deserved a life full of happiness and friends, and love. And she was hell-bent on making sure he got it. Preferably from her, but if her luck decided against it, which wouldn’t at all be surprising, well, he deserved it anyway.

After a moment of silence, he shyly, but clearly admitted, “Dancin’.” She cocked an eyebrow curiously. “I was a hell of a dancer.” He said. The proud look in his eyes made him look too fucking cute for his own good. It was as if those memories were clear as day in his mind; like he remembered exactly just how good really he was and he was down to brag. It didn’t escape her that he was talking in first-person again, not some long-lost version of himself.

“Really?” She asked, suddenly excited and he nodded, almost sheepishly. _Ugh, do me._

Darcy couldn’t suppress the grin that spread across her face at the thought of Bucky dancing. Not that she didn’t believe him; oh, she did. She figured back then dancing was a very important part of courting or something. She had just been surprised by the confession. Just picturing him moving along to an Astaire song made her swoon. She imagined him with the many girls he must have fucked silly right after and felt a twinge of jealousy. Those girls had had the pleasure of enjoying the full pre-war Bucky Barnes panty-dropping charm. Not that he lacked it now. Not at all. But it was a different, more preserved kinda charm. She still fucking loved it, though. He’d argue countless of times how rusty and old he was, but the way he’d turn her on with just a look or by standing too close to her contradicted every fucking word that came out of his mouth. Or maybe Darcy was just _that_ sexually frustrated.

Giving his face another look, taking in his features and the very much appreciated beard he’d grown in the last two months, she decided that, no, it wasn’t her. The guy was sex on legs and didn’t even realize it.

“That’s a big statement, Barnes. You ready to back it up?” She jumped off the counter and reached across his arms, turning off the water tap.

 “What?” He asked, confused.

“Back that ass up and dance with me.” She said as she threw the hand towel at him. He caught it with ease although the hesitation in his eyes was evident.

It was late, and they were alone, and she’d be damned if she didn’t at least _try_ to get him to dance.

He swallowed. “Oh, I don’t—it’s been such a long time. That was back when I— ”

“Nuh-uh, you gotta put your money where your mouth is.” She grabbed his right hand. “Come on, soldier.” She said as she pulled with all her strength. He didn’t budge. “Ya’ gotta help me here, pal.” She said, and he chuckled in both amusement and embarrassment.

“Darcy, I don’t— ” He started. “I can’t, doll. I ain’t so good now. I don’t wanna step all over your feet and embarrass myself.” He said with his hand still in hers.

She scoffed. “So? I’ll probably step on your feet. Cut the crap and dance with me.” She pulled again. “Come on, I’ve been dreaming about this since I was thirteen!” She said and his brow furrowed. Almost instantly, she regretted sharing that fun—secret— fact about herself. Before he could speak, she said, “Howling Commandos, they taught us about it at school. Lots of girls developed crushes on Captain America and his sexy ass best friend. It’s not as weird as it sounds. You should be flattered.” She realized her explanation did nothing in her favor.

He said nothing and just continued to stare at her with an unreadable expression. Was he okay with it? Was he completely creeped out by her now? Who the fuck knew. Darcy only knew two things, and that was A, she was blushing like a fucking schoolgirl, and B, she had decided around 2.5 seconds ago to leave the country and change her identity.

“Maybe it is as weird as it sounds.” She muttered as she let go of his hand, unable to keep eye contact. “You know what? Never mind. I’m gonna go. Goodnight.” She turned around, immediately stopped when he reached for her hand again.

She turned around reluctantly. He stared at her with the same blank expression before a small, playful smirk began forming on his lips.

“You were stuck on me?” He asked. The son of a bitch was enjoying this. She looked around the room and shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage. She could at least pretend she had some dignity left, right? That thought was quickly tossed away when he said, “Look at you, doll, you’re all red.”

Now… Now her cheeks were in flames, and she hated every second of it.

“I really hate you, you know that?”

For the first time in a while, he let out a real, hearty laugh that made him pull her closer to him. She was fighting and failing miserably at holding back the smile that threatened her mouth. Damn it, she was trying to be annoyed with him, he didn’t get to play the part of the sullen guy suddenly happy because of her. It wasn’t fair. But damn her if she didn’t want to listen to him laugh forever. Not about this, though.

“Are you done?” She said as the smile on her face betrayed her.

When he looked at her again, her knees went weak. The huge smile on his face was radiant and his eyes, crinkled at the corners, sparkled with a playfulness she’d never seen before in him. She barely saw him laugh and good God, he looked even hotter when he was like this.

“Okay, I’m done.” He lied through his fucking perfect lying teeth.

“You know what? I’m out. Bye.” She said as she went to pull her hand out of his grasp. She was convinced she’d escape this time until he reached for her other hand, pulling her back to him. They stood face to face now, and the closeness of their bodies was fucking with Darcy’s head. She wanted nothing more than to smash their faces together and get herself a proper dose of super-soldier in her system.

“You can’t go now, doll. What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t make some beautiful little dame’s dreams come true?” He raised his eyebrows, teasing the hell out of her. He’d never been this witty and playful before, and it was doing things to her. She had equal amount of urges to punch him in the face and make out with him.

She cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you ‘weren’t so good’ anymore.” She narrowed her eyes, and he shrugged.

“I’ll take my chances.” He said as he let go of her left hand and fished in his pocket for something.

“What are you doing?” She asked.

“We can’t dance without any music.” He said, nonchalantly as he brought his phone to eye level. The look of concentration on his face was borderline adorable.

“Aw, look at you, mastering technology already. I’m proud of you, gramps.” She mocked him, and he squeezed her hand playfully. “You know, I can just play something on my phone.”

“I ain’t dancin’ to your music.”

“What’s wrong with my music?” She asked, offended.

“It ain’t dancin’ music.”

“You just ‘ _ain’t_ ’ know how to dance to it, buddy.” She taunted, poking his chest and he looked at her with an unamused expression. “But that’s a lesson for another day. Play your old man music.”

After connecting his phone to the speakers—all by himself— he found the song he wanted and a crackling sound kicked off a slow melody.

Darcy’s heartbeat picked up, and she was embarrassed by how excited she really was. She was about to dance with _the_ Bucky Barnes. She also told herself that if she kept referring to him by his full name preceded by ‘ _the’_ she would actually punch herself in the face. He set his phone down on the center table in her living room as he walked towards her, looking nervous.

“I might still step on your feet.” He warned.

“I might step on yours.” She warned back. “Come on, soldier, show me what you got.” She said as he reached her.

“That’s Sergeant,” He said, with a sudden authority in his voice that made her eyebrows rise and her panties drop. “Sergeant Barnes.” He gave her a sly smile, and she felt her knees go weak.

“You…” She wanted to throw back a snarky remark or a mean comment, _anything_ , but her brain decided it was much more crucial to focus entirely on playing out all the downright filthy scenarios involving her calling him ‘Sergeant Barnes’ than to think of an actual good comeback.

He took her left hand and placed it gently on his shoulder. He was tense, she could feel it. She noticed his hesitance to wrap his arm around her and squeezed his shoulder gently in assurance. He responded immediately by snaking his arm slowly around her waist, her eyes stayed fixed on his shoulder avoiding eye contact.

She was suddenly, _painfully_ , aware of this being the first time they’d had real body contact. Apart from a quick hug or two she’d stolen from him—which he barely returned—they’d never been in each other’s arms like this. The feeling of his strong arm around her and the heat from his body was a dizzying combination. His fingers traced across her spine with a feather-like touch to settle on her ribcage, locking her in place. His hold was firm but unconstricting, not too much pressure yet still too much for her. She finally looked up, feeling unexpectedly breathless when she noticed he’d been staring at her.

She felt his left fingers grazing her hand as if asking for some kind of permission. Even after months of playful touches, even now that she stood wrapped in his arm, he still hesitated. He somehow still believed she didn’t really want him to touch her. _Ha!_ As if she didn’t spend all twenty-four hours of her days fantasizing with his hands and his fingers and his tongue, and his…  

Darcy gave herself a mental slap to snap out of her gutter-head and decided to put his mind at ease by reaching eagerly and wrapping her fingers around the palm of his metal hand. It felt strange, different… new. It was hard and unyielding, but still gentle and careful. He lifted their joined hands and her eyes traveled from them to his face, giving him a warm smile.

With that, he tightened his hold around her, drawing her to him completely and her heart began hammering erratically in her chest. She was too aware of his body, and it was most definitely, strongly affecting her. Her chest was pressed against his now, and their cheeks sat against each other. His beard tickled and scratched her, and it was driving her completely freaking bonkers. Because there was literally no other word to describe it. His body was harder than she imagined— not that she was complaining. She was struggling to breathe, but it had more to do with how good he smelled and how freaking delicious he felt against her than his hold on her. Her left arm hung over his bicep with her fingers wrapped around his shoulder.

 “Your heart is beating so fast.” He acknowledged, and she felt the blush creeping up on her face for the second time tonight.

“Your fault.” She said. “Grabbin’ me like that.” She scoffed. “Rusty, my ass.” He chuckled softly as he began leading her.

“You give me too much credit, sugar.”

His moves were controlled at first. He was somewhat stiff and unsure. Darcy couldn’t care less, she had no fucking clue how to dance anyway. She was in heaven just by being wrapped in his arms. She relaxed and let him lead however slowly he wanted. Whatever kept her there longer, she was down for.

“I sure am one lucky gal, Sarge.” She teased and he chuckled.

 “I’m dancin’ with a pretty brunette after almost a century, and _you’re_ the lucky one? Doll, I think you got it switched.” He said.

 “Ooh, better be careful, James, a girl might get ideas if you keep sweet-talking her like that.”

“James?” He repeated.

She pulled back a few inches to look at him. “You don’t like it?”

“’S’not that, doll. Just not used to it.”

“I like it.”

“You can call me whatever you want, sweetheart.” He said sincerely.

She knew the cute pet-names meant nothing. He called her ‘doll’ and ‘sweetheart’ all the time. The words would constantly slide off his tongue as naturally as breathing. That didn’t mean she didn’t turn into a gooey mess every time she heard them, though.

The song was coming to an end, and Darcy could feel the disappointment flaring up. They’d barely danced. She was thinking of ways to convince him to dance another one when another song came on automatically. This time it was a much more lively song. He pulled away, and she was forcing herself to let him go when he pulled her back sharply in a smooth motion, making her land on his chest. She yelped when she realized he was gonna dance this one as well and excitement bubbled up in her stomach again along with nervousness.

“Are you serious?” She asked, unsure and he nodded as he sank his teeth on his bottom lip, biting down a devilish smile. She chuckled uneasily. “Go easy on me, hot-stuff. This one’s faster.”

“And better.” He winked at her. He _motherfucking_ winked!

_What the balls?!_

It was different this time. It was as if something clicked in his brain and he went from slow, unsure steps to confident strides. Soon enough, he was leading her like he’d last danced yesterday. Maybe it was muscle memory or something. He seemed so confident and in control of every movement, it was downright charming and hot as hell. She made a mental note to ask him later if it was a natural talent of his or if he actually took lessons. That would be hilarious but somehow, still believable.

They moved through the house, swaying side to side, back and forth, and even a twirl or ten. He dipped her several times, enjoying how each time she’d yelp and grip his shoulders tight. She struggled following his moves but soldiered on. Darcy Elizabeth Lewis wouldn’t quit if her life depended on it. She laughed whenever she stumbled to cover her embarrassment. That embarrassment, however, turned into something else every time his lips curved up and he gripped her waist tighter, protecting her from her own feet. She wouldn’t get used to this Bucky fast enough. Maybe one day she’d confess to him, she stumbled on purpose more than a few times just to feel his hands tightening their hold on her.

Once the song neared the end, he slowed the pace once more, pulling her back to him and pressing their cheeks together again. His phone played the next song; another slow melody. She wrapped her left arm loosely around his neck, enjoying the closeness too much to give it up.

Darcy turned her face and planted a soft kiss on his cheek. He pulled back to look at her. Instead of fear and anxiousness, she was met with a blissful expression and that damn subtle curve of his lips. Darcy tried her best to seem nonchalant and not attack his pretty face right then and there.

“What was that for?” He asked, and she shrugged.

“Just a thank you for humoring the world’s most annoying girl.”

“You’re not annoying.” He said, giving her a big twirl.

She landed back in his arms and scoffed. “You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re feeling me up right now.” He let go of her waist and immediately, she threatened, “Put that back where it was or so help me, James Barnes.” He chuckled as he snaked his arm around her without hesitancy this time.

“You’re not annoying, doll.” He looked into her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a delight.” She said, waving him off. “I will admit, though, Bucky Barnes’ still got it. I mean, hot as hell _and_ a good dancer? No wonder girls were chasing after you.”

“Did it live up to your expectations?” He was clearly teasing her, but there was a hint of seriousness in his tone. He was making sure she hadn’t been completely let down. _Pff, as if!_

“Hardly,” She could see his expression fall and quickly went on. “Let me put it like this,” She removed her arm from his shoulder. “Expectations,” She said as she lay her hand flat in the air around eye level. “Reality,” She said as she stood on her tiptoes and raised her arm as high as it would go without taking her eyes from him.

His gaze followed her hand and he broke out into the same gorgeous, eye-crinkling smile he had earlier in the kitchen. He looked back at her and her heart wanted to jump out of her damn chest. She let her hand rest on his shoulder again.

“I guess it’s like riding a bike.” He tried to shrug off her compliment, but he was visibly unable to suppress how proud he felt at the moment. Darcy simply hummed in agreement, letting him bask in this moment. He deserved to feel good about himself more often. His eyes landed on their joined hands, becoming serious for a second. “You’re more comfortable with it.” He said, thoughtfully.

 “With what?” She said, and his fingers flexed. “Your arm?” He nodded. “Bucky, it’s your arm. I’ve always been comfortable with it.” He raised an eyebrow. “Fine, ok, I was a bit freaked out at first but only because I didn’t know how it worked exactly.” She confessed guiltily.

“Can’t blame you.” He said with a sad smile and Darcy grimaced.

“Come on, Bucky, don’t make me feel bad.” She said, giving his hand a squeeze.

He closed his eyes for a split second before looking back at her. “I can feel you, you know.” He said, and her eyes widened.

“Are you serious?” She asked. “I thought it was just ‘a weapon’ or something.”

“The old one was. This one’s Stark’s.” He said. “He upgraded it or somethin’.”

“That’s sick!” She said, and he frowned in confusion.

“Sick?”

“My bad, I forget,” She cleared her throat. “I mean, gee, that sure is swell!” She said in a ridiculous accent, and he almost rolled his eyes at her.

“You really get a kick outta this, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Teasing you? Hell yeah.” She said, and he smiled. She turned her attention back to their joined hands and became serious once more. “What do you feel, though?”

“Temperature, texture, pressure…” He trailed off.

She loosened her hold on his hand and linked their fingers together, interlacing with one another. She closed her hand and squeezed. The metal was unyielding yet when she asked, “Do you feel that?” He hummed in confirmation.

 “Not like the real thing though.” He added.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “James Buchanan Barnes, are you trying to get me to feel you up?” She accused. He started shaking his head before she interrupted him. “Because let me tell you, buddy, I am not the kind of girl who will _ever_ say no to that. Come here,” She added as she let her left hand travel down his—very strong—right arm, pulling in from around her. Her waist felt cold without it. Her free hand found his and she interlaced her fingers with it same as the other. She held both of his hands and squeezed at the same time.

“What’s the verdict?” She asked, looking up to meet his eyes.

“Right.” He answered without hesitation.

Her eyes dropped to her right hand and flexed her fingers against his metal ones. “Yeah, have to agree with that.”

“My right,” He said as he flexed his right hand.

“I don’t know, my right’s feelin’ pretty good right now.” She said, making him shake his head in amusement.

He’d smiled so many times tonight. He’d laughed more in the last twenty minutes than he had in the three months she’d known him. Collectively. And she was over the fucking moon. She loved being the reason he smiled the way he did. She loved being the only one he let see him like this; no reservations, no masks, no fear. She knew how much it meant and did not take it lightly.

She let go of his hands, tracing his arms all the way to his shoulders.

“I like it when you smile.” She blurted out and physically cringed at the words. “Oh my god, that sounds awful out loud. But whatever, I don’t care, it’s true.” She shrugged.

His hands rested on her hips now. They probably looked like an awkward couple at prom, but Darcy didn’t give one single shit. He was silent for a moment before she felt his fingers flexing and tightening on her hips.

“You make me.” He said sincerely, and butterflies were suddenly wreaking havoc in Darcy’s stomach.

“I make you, huh?” She asked, and in a bold move, she wrapped her hands around his neck, bringing him closer. “Can I make you do other stuff, too?” She wiggled her eyebrows.

She was used to throwing innuendos his way, but she was sure she was crossing some physical boundaries now, so she was expecting him to pull away any second and politely reject her. Instead, his response made her jaw hit the floor.

“You can make me do whatever you want, sweetheart.” He said smoothly, his low voice sending an anticipating chill down her spine.

She was taken aback by his honesty. It wasn’t just what he said, but how he’d said it. It wasn’t a joke anymore, it was serious and it was freaking her out just a little bit. She was used to being the bold one, the one whose excessive flirting was met with a smile and nothing more. She always kept on going because she knew it would never amount to anything. Bucky wouldn’t really respond to her advances, he was complicated and way, _waaay_ out of her league. He was just fun to flirt with. The sudden change, however, combined with the way he was staring at her, rendered her speechless. She swallowed.

“Really?” Her voice came out breathier than she intended.

He clenched his jaw, nodding faintly as he pulled her closer by her hips.

“Really.”

_Holy fuckbuckets._

They were so close Darcy could almost make out every shade of blue of his eyes. Some voice continued singing along to a crackly track somewhere far away in the living room. She had forgotten about it. All she could focus on was Bucky’s proximity and the swift change in the energy of the room. All at once, she became hypersensitive of everywhere they were touching, like a current flowing through her veins. She had no idea when they moved closer, but their noses were grazing now and her skin started feeling hotter.

He chuckled, bringing her out of her daze.

“Sweetheart,”

“Huh?”

“Your heartbeat’s goin’ crazy.”

“Barnes, I swear to god, if you don’t kiss me in the next two seconds I’m g—”

She didn’t get a chance to finish that sentence as he suddenly pressed his lips against hers.

Her brain kinda went blank for a second with only the words ‘ _BUCKY’S KISSING YOU’_ flashing in her head. When she came back to herself, her hands cupped his face, keeping him in place. His beard was rough, but his lips were surprisingly soft. It was a sweet, gentle kiss. Obviously, he was being a gentleman. It was funny, really. He was trying not to cross some ‘line’ while Darcy was totally down with him bending her over the kitchen counter and having his way with her right there if he wanted. His hands trailed up her hips and rested on her ribcage now. She wrapped her arms fully around his neck, standing on her tiptoes as she tried to deepen the kiss. He pulled away and she felt a wave of disappointment crashing over her. _Oh, there’s that line… and I just crossed it._

“Sorry, I thought—”

“Darlin’, no, just… Gimme a second, I’m warmin’ up. Haven’t done this in a while.” He admitted bashfully and it only spurred her on.

“I’ve heard it’s like riding a bike,” She bit down a smile.

“I’m sure it is,” He humored her before planting another kiss on her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> TO BE CONTINUED?
> 
> I know, I know, I always end it when things seem to be getting good. But a smutty chapter two might still pop up. Don't lose hope.


End file.
